


transformations

by lisbethsalamanders



Series: you anchor me [3]
Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Canon Divergence, Donna Clark is a lesbian the end, Drama, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Infidelity, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisbethsalamanders/pseuds/lisbethsalamanders
Summary: “I miss you when you’re not here. Even when you just go home for the night, I miss you.” The air pressure seems to drop, Donna can’t seem to get a lungful no matter how hard she tries. “And I definitely didn’t feel nothing just now."





	

**Author's Note:**

> set during "heaven is a place", the conversation between donna and cameron the morning after gordon's confession goes... differently.
> 
> i'd also recommend reading "small hours" first btw, it's something of a sequel that started small and immediately developed a mind of its own.

The sky had barely lightened when Donna pulled herself from the couch and drove to Mutiny. The thought of looking into Joanie and Hayley’s eyes as they got ready for school after the night before made her want to vomit so, like a coward, she ran.

The morning is foggy and her shoes are soaked in dew by the time she gets inside. The silence that greets her makes her breathe easy for the first time in what feels like days. She sits at her desk in the middle of the cozy chaos and allows the weight of her sleepless night to sink in. Resting her head on her arms, she cries.

It’s only been a half hour or so before footsteps and small crashes let her know the house is beginning to wake up. A few moments later she hears a voice from the other end of the room, “You’re here early.”

The sight of Cameron, fuzzy with sleep and holding an empty mug to her chest like it’ll run away if she lets go, brings a fresh wave of tears. Cameron walks over slowly, looking as though she’s approaching an animal that might lash out and maul her. Donna turns away as she sits beside her. Gathering her courage, she speaks the truth into the air for the first time, “I don’t know if Gordon and I love each other anymore. And I don’t know if I can fix it, or if I want to fix it.” 

There’s silence for a moment and Donna doesn’t expect her to reply. Cameron’s brilliant at many things, but comforting words are not on that list. But Cameron speaks quietly, even moves in closer, placing her mug on Donna’s desk. “Did you tell him about, you know, what you did? You don’t have to tell me, but if you want to talk about it -”

“He slept with someone else.” Cameron’s eyes widen in horror but now that she’s begun she can’t stop, the words pouring out of her like rain. “I didn’t tell him about the abortion, but maybe I should’ve. I don’t know. I feel like it doesn’t matter now, because I’m - I’m relieved. That we don’t have to pretend anymore and that he wanted someone else badly enough to do that because maybe it’s okay that I want someone else, too.” She regrets her near confession instantly and slumps over, forehead pressing into her palms. “I’m terrible.”

“No, no, you’re not terrible.” Cameron places her hands on the desk emphatically. “I mean, he went and did it, right? He actually cheated on you while you were still together and you just thought about it - right?”

Donna suddenly feels very, very small. She looks down at her hands, at her ring. She twists the decoder reflexively and fights against pulling it off and throwing it across the room. “I’m worse than he is.” Her eyes stay low on her hands, knowing that if she moves them a centimeter the tears will dislodge. Her neck hurts, her eyelids hurt, every part of her wants to climb beneath the desk and never come out. “He wasn’t planning to sleep with her, he just did. And that was it, just the once. But me -” There are the tears, burning trails down her already splotched cheeks. “I wanted to, for so long I wanted to. I was thinking about it, about you, all the time, every time we…” She lets one sob escape and turns to the window. The sky is all clouds, unchanged since dawn when she watched it turn from black to chilly grey. 

Cameron’s voice sounds rooms away. “God, really?” Donna places her face in her hands. She could really use a tissue, her whole head feels like liquid, but she doesn’t trust herself to move. Let the moment end, let Cameron walk away and leave her in peace. 

Metal creaks against the hardwood and Cameron is closer now, grabbing the back of Donna’s chair and turning her on the swivel. “Donna.” Her voice is soft, surprisingly kind. “I had _no_ idea. Like, at all.” And before Donna can reply, Cameron is kissing her. 

The angle is off and Donna’s too shocked to kiss back for the first few seconds. But when she does, when she breathes out a sigh and Cameron’s hands come up to grip her hair at the roots, Donna melts. It’s a bit sloppy, like Cameron herself. There’s too much teeth for her taste and Cameron’s lips are chapped, but she’s warm and soft and it all feels like the best kind of dream.

It only feels like seconds before Cameron pulls back slightly, moving her hands to Donna’s cheeks and regarding her thoughtfully as Donna opens her eyes. Cameron speaks softly, “This is really, really complicated.”

Donna barks out a laugh. “Don’t I know it.”

“I never even thought about you like that before. Well, not consciously. Maybe. God, I don’t even know, maybe I did. I know I like arguing with you and working with you and I definitely get pissed off whenever someone even says the name Gordon.” Donna can’t help the reflex to roll her eyes and Cameron grins. “You’re kind of my favorite person, you know? A little square for my tastes, but…” She pauses, grin fading. Her eyes, full of flecks of silver Donna never noticed before, flicker to the floor. “I miss you when you’re not here. Even when you just go home for the night, I miss you.” The air pressure seems to drop, Donna can’t seem to get a lungful no matter how hard she tries. “And I definitely didn’t feel nothing just now.” The world shifts as Cameron looks back up, sheepish and questioning. Before she can say another word, Donna kisses her. 

There’s no hesitation this time. Her arms become vines to reach around Cameron and Donna feels cracked open, all the regret and anger and grief she’s felt over the past few months spilling out. She’s standing now, pulled up by Cameron’s hands at the front of her t-shirt and her legs will carry her anywhere, wherever Cameron wants to go.

They’re in the hallway before it registers through the haze in her brain that they’re making their way to Cameron’s bedroom. The, usually dominant, rational part of Donna’s mind is screaming that there’s still time to stop this, to keep her family intact, to save her marriage that’s only on the edge of crumbling. The marriage that she’s not sure she wants, that she’s on the outskirts of, that’s always felt like more of a business partnership than a romance, that’s never, ever made her feel the way she does at this moment. These doubts along with the pull of Cameron’s teeth against her bottom lip drown out her rational side. She’s resourceful. She’ll deal with the fallout.

Cameron shuts the door behind them and they break apart as she locks it, all panting and dilated pupils. “Are you,” Cameron gulps, shifting from foot to foot and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Are you sure about this?” Impatient with words and rationalization, Donna pulls her shirt over her head in answer and throws it to the floor. There’s a moment of quiet like the edge of a diving board before Cameron is on her and they’re tumbling backwards onto her mattress.

The bed squeaks garishly and is so lumpy that Donna’s first thought upon landing is the need to get Cameron a new one, this one must be murder on her back. That’s quickly forgotten as Cameron wastes no time in moving south, kissing and nibbling the cords of her throat. Her hands are too quick for Donna to process, already in progress unbuckling and unzipping. “Wait,” she says, lifting her head. “Wait, wait, it’s too fast, you’re going too fast.”

Cameron freezes, turning to look at her with those huge, bright eyes. “I am? What’s wrong?”

“You’re going too fast. I don’t want that, I don’t want this to be over in five minutes.”

Cameron raises an eyebrow and Donna feels her heart jump. “Is that a real possibility?” Eyes twinkling, she takes a hand and slips it inside Donna’s newly undone jeans. Donna whimpers and lets her head fall back, unable to meet Cameron’s eyes. She’s soaked through to the denim, she knows it, and now Cameron knows it. “Oh _wow_.” There’s an airiness to Cameron’s voice and Donna can tell she’s smiling. Removing her hand, she leans in to press a feather light kiss beneath Donna’s ear. “Sorry, we’ll go slow.”

“Thanks,” Donna breathes out. “I like slow.” 

“Good to know.” And Cameron’s kissing her again.

It’s not even in the same universe as being in bed with Gordon, it feels almost laughable to compare the two. Even in their college days the fun part of their relationship was the work, was finding someone she could spar with on an intellectual level. Sex is - well, it’s like laundry: she knows it needs to get done and it’s not a hateful task by any means, but it’s just another check on the to do list. 

Everything about this is good. She wants to know everything. She moves her hands down Cameron’s back and beneath the green of her t-shirt to the warm, soft skin beneath. She wants to know the ridges of Cameron’s spine, the bumps and flaws in her skin, the downy hairs on the small of her back. She lifts the cotton tentatively, waiting for Cameron to initiate. 

To her delight, Cameron pushes herself up to sit on her heels and she watches as Cameron pulls her shirt off and tosses it away before pulling her up onto her knees for a kiss. Donna paws at Cameron’s small, pointed breasts with such enthusiasm that Cameron laughs against her mouth. She feels like a sixteen year old boy in the back of a pickup truck, not caring how clumsy her fumbling might be because what else could matter in this moment but Cameron’s breasts fitting in her hands like they were made to be there or the groan coming from low in Cameron’s throat or Cameron reaching behind her to deftly unsnap her bra and peel it from her body. She should have been on this side of things all along, she finally understands. Years of her life were wasted not doing this, but no. She’s here now. She knows now. She’ll make up for lost time.

She pulls Cameron back down, eager to feel the press of her now that they’re skin against skin. Cameron’s kisses travel, gentle and unhurried, across her jawline, onto her throat, down to her chest. Her eyes flutter as she watches the ceiling, so aware of every breath, every spot on her body Cameron is touching. They’re lit up across her skin: her mouth closing hotly around her nipple, the frizz of her hair tickling her collarbone, her hard ribcage digging right below her hips. She’s become a constellation, she’s ultraviolet. She can’t believe how many new things she’s become in the past half hour.

“God, you have amazing tits.” Cameron nuzzles against the side of her breast and Donna laughs. “I always guessed you did under those blazers and button downs."

“Have you been ogling my Bloomingdales, young lady?” Donna pulls her up by the hair and blushes at the wicked grin on her face. Oh, this is _fun_. Who could imagine that, along with all the rest, sex could be _fun?_

“Yes, ma’am.” Cameron replies in an exaggerated drawl. “Though I reckon it may be time to get rid of these ole blue jeans, how ‘bout you?” Her eyes go soft as Donna’s giggles hiccup to an abrupt stop. “If you want to?” No more debate, no more analyzing. Donna nods.

Falling back against the beastly orange sheets (seriously, the bed needs a makeover if she plans to spend any more time in it), Donna tightens her hands into fists as Cameron kisses a trail south, making stops at each of her ribs and her belly button, but Donna covers her face when she reaches the stretch marks. She treasures them like tattoos of Joanie and Hayley, but they’re not attractive. They’re marks of age and laziness that Gordon’s too polite to mention and she avoids in the mirror, but Cameron is kissing them with a tenderness she can barely fathom. It’s almost too much, too intimate, bringing her to the brink of tears once again. Cameron must notice her change in breathing and she feels a hand reach up to stroke her cheek. “Hey,” Cameron says. “You’re fucking beautiful, okay?” 

Taking a deep inhale, she nuzzles against Cameron’s long fingers and chokes out, “Thanks.” But she keeps her eyes closed tight as Cameron pulls her jeans over her hips and thighs, following them onto the floor. Her breaths become more shallow as she lets Cameron spread her legs. She reaches down towards her. “Give me your hand or something, I’m all alone up here.” Cameron chuckles and she feels her lace the fingers of their left hands together, grounding her. 

Before she can prepare herself anymore, Cameron begins to rub her nose against the pronounced wetness soaking through her underwear. “Oh!” She practically shouts before remembering they’re not alone in this house full of curious boys and thin walls. She props herself on her elbows and has to double check, “You locked the door, right?”

Cameron rolls her eyes. “No, I _want_ the code monkeys to walk in on their bosses fucking, that definitely wouldn’t traumatize them forever.” 

To even her own surprise, Donna smiles. “It’s comforting to know you can still make fun of me with your face between my legs.”

Cameron grins and squeezes Donna’s fingers. “Speaking of which, can I have my hand back for a second?” Reluctantly she lets go but her stomach flips as Cameron hooks her fingers around the elastic and looks up, doe-eyed, to Donna for her approval. Blood pounding in her ears, she nods and lifts her hips. She digs her teeth into her lip as Cameron pulls the cotton from her but doesn’t look away. She can’t remember the last time she’s felt this exposed, but can’t remember the last time she'd felt such an ache either. 

Cameron reaches back up to take her hand again. Her fingers are cool and smooth and Donna holds to them tightly as Cameron leans down to press her soft lips against the insides of her thighs. Placing a hand on her stomach, feeling it tremble as her breath quickens, Donna settles back against the bed and shuts her eyes. Sensation overcomes her as Cameron finally, _finally_ takes her into her mouth.

Any time Gordon had offered to go down on her after the first few tries she’d turned him away. He’d reminded her of a dog lapping at water when he’d attempted it and hadn’t listened when she tried to educate him on what to do and where to go, so she’d convinced him she just didn’t like it. After a while she’d even convinced herself.

But Cameron is alternating suckling on her clit and licking stripes beneath its hood and it all feels shuddering, fluttery, _fantastic_. She gets herself off functionally enough but, god, it’s not the same. The fever heat of Cameron’s mouth, the precise movements of it, the way she reacts in accordance with every whimper from Donna and every hitch of her hips, all the while rubbing a thumb gently across the top of Donna’s knuckles. The anxiety she felt at being so exposed, so vulnerable, only moments ago feels a thousand miles away. 

A distressingly loud noise escapes her throat as Cameron presses a finger, then two, inside her and barely lets her body adjust before pulling them out and pushing firmly back in. “Oh, god, that’s good, that’s so good,” Donna gasps, clutching at the sheets next to her like the edge of a cliff. A moan of approval from Cameron sends vibrations up through her pelvic bone and Donna cries out again, all of it so good she can barely stand it.

Part of her wishes she could last longer, that Cameron would spend all morning licking and sucking and curling her fingers in a delightfully determined search for her g-spot, but warmth is beginning to bloom from her vulva, tingling up through her stomach and down her taut thighs. “Cam, I’m close, I’m really close.” At that, Cameron, always so focused, such a perfectionist, so goddamn good at what she does, manages to find what she’s been searching for so diligently and Donna’s entire body arches, lit up like a motherboard.

Aftershocks throb through her as she melts back onto the sheets. She whimpers a little at the loss as Cameron pulls her fingers from inside her but opens her eyes and watches as she climbs up onto the bed next to her. Cameron is haloed in dusty light from the window as she sits cross legged and staring down at her. She has a mole above her left nipple Donna hadn’t taken the time to notice before. She wants to kiss it, wants to press her ear against it and listen to her heartbeat. 

“You okay?” Cameron asks, wiping the sides of her mouth with her thumb and forefinger. The gesture is a strange one, but familiar. With a start, she remembers where she’s seen Cameron do it before: the first time they met, in the restroom at Cardiff Electric. She’d watched Cameron brush her teeth in the mirror and perform that exact motion when she finished. She was an alien to her then, spidery limbs and accusing eyes that threatened her choices, her very existence. The lifetime they’ve lived together between the two gestures makes her ache.

She sits up, placing a hand on Cameron’s neck and pulling her into a kiss. It’s surreal to taste herself on Cameron Howe’s mouth, but so much that used to be frightening and far away has become real so quickly that she has no time to consider its strangeness. Instead, she shifts her weight and pushes Cameron down onto her back. 

To her surprise Cameron pulls away, head falling back onto the pillow and looking up at her with stormcloud eyes. For a brief moment she’s afraid they’re finished, that Cameron’s decided at the last moment that she doesn’t want Donna. Then Cameron rumbles, voice low and deep, “I don’t want slow.” 

She makes a point to nip at every one of Cameron’s freckles and moles on the way down, relishing the salt taste of her skin and the softness of it. She’s transforming again, this time into some animal on all fours whose only instinct is to consume. She’s formidable, she’s confident, she bites down on Cameron’s nipple without a second thought, making her yelp and jolt. She wants to give her hickeys, mark her, bite her, let the planet know that Cameron is _hers_. And she wants to taste her, god she wants to know what she’s been missing and what other, lesser creatures have savored and then thrown aside. She wants all of her. 

She pulls off Cameron’s jeans and underwear in a single motion, tossing them behind her with unplanned frenzy. Her hands shake as she hitches apart Cameron’s legs and pulls them over her shoulders, settling in between her thighs. 

It takes a few moments to remember what to do through the anxiety and newness and heady heat but she gets her bearings after parting Cameron’s lips and spreading her open. She’s a hardware expert who once built an entirely new musical instrument. She excels in making delicate machines sing. Running her fingers experimentally along her folds, Donna maps her. 

When she feels sufficiently learned (and Cameron has started making little noises of impatience that she partially wants to ignore to continue her exploration, but she’s not that cruel), Donna slides her tongue tentatively in a close circle around Cameron’s clit. She hears Cameron hiss as she grabs her hair, spreading her legs wider and inching her hips forward. Pleased, Donna presses her mouth firmly against Cameron and pushes two fingers inside her simultaneously. Cameron tastes like the ocean and feels like velvet that’s been sitting in the sun. Closing her eyes, she builds a rhythm.

Cameron has no abandon. She rolls her hips, thrusts back hard at her fingers, pulls her hair, moans out guttural, primal noises into the air of the room. Donna rides the waves of it, testing new tempos, learning eagerly. Her tongue aches and her forearm is starting to cramp, but that’s part of it. She doesn’t want it to end.

But Cameron’s beginning to shudder, heels digging into the back of her neck, so Donna keeps the pace, upping the roughness only little, wanting to feel when she swells to the finale.

Cameron’s thighs clamp around her ears and she rocks to the side, hands yanking at Donna’s auburn hair from the roots. She bucks and wails and Donna doesn’t slow, not even when she hears her name, until Cameron’s muscles soften and the the pulsing inside of her calms to an adagio. She extricates herself slowly, pulling Cameron apart and climbing up on legs full of pins and needles to collapse beside her. The house creaks around them, slowly coming back into focus. They stare at the ceiling, unmoving, not touching.

After a moment she rolls onto her side, resting her cheek on her fist. “So, you think you screamed my name loud enough for everyone in the house to hear or just the guys who’re awake?”

A grin spreads like sunshine across Cameron’s face and she turns to look directly into Donna’s eyes. “If they know, they know. Fuck it.” There’s a heat beneath Cameron’s statement, a challenge. Serious decisions will need to be made, compromises and tears and hurt, but the regret she assumed she’d feel is nowhere to be found. 

She holds Cameron’s stare. “You’re right. Fuck it.” And she leans down to kiss her.


End file.
